


We Shall Not Sleep

by Miko



Series: We Shall Keep The Faith [15]
Category: Agent Carter (TV), Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Childhood Trauma, F/M, Friendship, Love Triangles, Makeup Sex, Open Relationships, Polyamory, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-05
Updated: 2015-06-07
Packaged: 2018-04-02 23:14:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4077439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miko/pseuds/Miko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes it's hard to recognize your own mistakes until someone comes along to rub your nose in them. But hey, that's what friends are for, right? Not that Natasha would know. 'Friends' aren't something she's used to having.</p><p>She's not entirely convinced getting her nose rubbed in it is a good thing, though.</p><p> </p><p>This fic should be read in sequence with the rest of the series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Not once in her life until the moment she entered the new Avengers HQ had Natasha ever expected to possess something as banal and mundane as an _office_. By its very existence an office implied a desk that she was expected to sit at, and by definition that meant she had a _desk job_. It suggested a sense of permanence and stability in her life. 

It was unfathomable.

And yet here she sat, wading through paperwork. Well, paperless paperwork, thanks to the Stark-designed computer system. Lists and charts and forms and everything bureaucratic that she had never thought she’d have to deal with. Briefings and debriefings, yes. Files with information about her missions and targets, yes. But frigging _report cards_?

She knew the new team needed to be able to see the data that showed their performance record in training and on missions, highlighting their strengths and weaknesses. She knew that, as their trainer, she was the person best qualified to give them that information. She knew that Steve was doing his share of dealing with the red tape as well - Boy Scout that he was, likely he’d finished his reports the same day they’d agreed it needed to be done.

None of that made her any less antsy about the fact that she had an office. 

Although to be fair, its existence hadn’t bothered her nearly as much before she and Steve called it quits. Until then, she’d found it oddly comforting to know that her place here was so secure. Now, the idea of being tied down made her skin crawl.

But she couldn’t just abandon the Avengers. Not yet, not until they were ready and truly functioning as a proper team. What she’d do when she left, Natasha wasn’t sure, but she’d find something. She always did. Maybe Fury could use her again.

A knock on the door startled Natasha just as she signed the last of the reports. Glancing at the clock, she raised an eyebrow. It was well past anything that might be considered office hours, if she could even be said to have such a thing. If there was some kind of after-hours problem someone would have called her on the comms, not come to her door looking for her. “Come in,” she said, curious.

To say she was surprised when the door opened to show Peggy standing there would be an understatement. Things had been awkward between them since the revelation about Natasha’s past with Bucky... though not nearly as awkward as Natasha had expected, all things considered. Peggy had taken it remarkably in stride, and didn’t appear to blame Natasha for the falling out with Steve.

Then again, perhaps she was grateful, since by some miracle that night had resulted in the worst-case _and_ best-case scenarios coming to pass. Things had ended horribly between Steve and Natasha, but it had driven Steve to go to Bucky and Peggy after all. 

“You worked through dinner again,” Peggy commented as she came through the door. She held up a plastic bag, and Natasha could see the distinctive shape of the cartons inside through the plastic. “At this rate I’m afraid you’re going to starve yourself by accident.”

“I have to do something to keep my weight down, I’ve been so lazy lately,” Natasha replied, her mouth on autopilot as she tried to absorb the fact that Peggy had not only noticed Natasha had been skipping meals, she’d decided to do something to fix it. “I swear my butt gets wider every hour I spend in this damned chair.”

“Be that as it may, wasting away to nothing isn’t a good idea either,” Peggy chuckled as she set the bag on a clear spot on Natasha’s desk. “I brought enough for two... if you don’t mind the company? I miss our meals together. It’s been far too long since we really spoke.”

Frowning, Natasha tried to take the other woman’s measure. Ordinarily she was good at reading people, but Peggy was also an experienced undercover operative. The other woman was better than most at hiding her true thoughts and motives when she wanted to.

At the moment she appeared to be open and genuine, however. Undoubtedly she had an ulterior motive, but whatever it was, Natasha didn’t think her intent was antagonistic. “I didn’t expect you’d really want much to do with me, given everything that’s happened,” Natasha admitted, but gestured for Peggy to take a seat.

Reaching for one of the cartons, Natasha opened it to find her favourite, chicken almond guy ding. There was a surprisingly decent variety of food available on the base, though none of it was five star quality, but Chinese was Natasha’s guilty pleasure.

Peggy passed over a pair of chopsticks, and her smile was rueful. “I know you and Steve are having difficulties, to put it mildly. But I thought you and I had been building a friendship of our own, not just through him. I never had a female friend before you from whom I didn’t have to hide the important half of my life.”

Genuinely touched, Natasha had to struggle for a moment to find words to form a reply. “I’ve never had a lot of friends, period. It’s hard to form attachments when you grow up knowing you could be ordered to kill your best friend at any time.” The Red Room had made a point of forcing the girls who grew close to one another to fight to the death. They all quickly learned not to bother making friends, or even allies.

“You know, I’ve been meaning to ask you about that,” Peggy said, reaching for a carton of her own. “Please feel free not to answer, and I don’t mean to dig up bad memories. But that’s not the first time you’ve said something that reminds me of a Russian program I encountered back in the forties, designed to train young girls to become lethal spies. That program was run by an organization called Leviathan, however, and they were shut down before SHIELD was ever founded.”

“Leviathan!” Natasha gave an astonished laugh. “God, there’s a name I haven’t heard since my history lessons. They founded the original Red Room program around the time of the First World War. Later, the KGB picked up the program and continued it. Well, HYDRA did, under the guise of the KGB. In hindsight if Bucky was one of my trainers, HYDRA kind of had to be behind it.”

“So it is the same program. I had wondered - you don’t have any handcuff scars on your wrist.” Peggy gestured with her chopsticks to Natasha’s arm, bared by her short-sleeved shirt.

“Wow, you do know your stuff.” Natasha raised an eyebrow. “They stopped cuffing the girls to the beds as soon as they realized how easily identifiable it made us, and started putting us in tiny individual cells at night instead. Were you part of the group that took down Leviathan?”

“Howard Stark and I both were, among others at the SSR,” Peggy said. “I made some enemies in the process. One of your predecessors made it her personal mission to see me dead, and she nearly succeeded several times.”

“You fought a Red Room graduate and lived to tell the tale? I’m impressed.” She really was. Of course the training methods had come a long way since back in the thirties when Peggy’s adversary would have been raised by the program, but still.

“I wish I could claim luck had less to do with my survival,” Peggy replied. “She was a better fighter than I, but in the end I suppose I was more determined.”

“Determination and the will to succeed and survive count for a lot,” Natasha told her. “Hell, just look at Steve.”

“Oh, I do,” Peggy said, with the faintest hint of a smirk. “As often as I have the opportunity. And I admire the view.” The teasing was hesitant, almost tentative. Probably she was sounding out Natasha’s reaction to what was potentially still a very sore subject.

Not that it was. Natasha’s only regret was that things had become so very awkward between her and Steve. She missed his company and yes, even his friendship, but she was hardly going to be sensitive about the end of her relationship with Steve when it was what she’d been planning all along.

If she kept telling herself that, maybe eventually she’d believe it. 

“Well, there certainly is a great deal to admire,” she answered in kind, keeping her tone light and easy, and was rewarded when Peggy relaxed and smiled back.

“Truly, no hard feelings between us?” Peggy asked, tilting her head and giving Natasha a sincerely hopeful look. “I was worried you might feel I’d been... inappropriate, considering how quickly Steve came to us after your fight.”

“None at all,” Natasha promised her, and meant it. “I’m just glad he had you to go to. No problems with Bucky getting jealous?”

“It’s been a bit of a balancing act, with both of them,” Peggy acknowledged with a sigh. “Bucky’s still at least partly convinced that at any moment I’ll realize Steve is so much better for me that I don’t need Bucky after all, and Steve remains uncertain that he’s truly welcome on a long-term basis. And of course, I can’t get either of them to admit that or talk about it, so I have to guess how they’re really feeling.”

“Hang in there,” Natasha said, not unsympathetic. “It doesn’t just take twice as much work to have two partners, it’s exponential. And you’re definitely going to have to be the sensible one, the glue that holds it all together. I have faith in you three. Bucky agreeing in the first place was the biggest initial obstacle.”

“It was his suggestion, actually,” Peggy said, surprising Natasha. “Though it was couched more in terms of ‘fine, if you won’t leave me to be with him, you’re stuck with us both because he needs you right now’.”

“Interesting. Well, I guess that lack of social conditioning he suffers from can have its benefits.” Natasha was glad to hear it, though. She’d gotten Steve accustomed to the idea that relationships didn’t have to be exclusive to be satisfying even before they’d found Peggy, but she hadn’t had the chance to do enough prep work on Peggy and Bucky to be sure they’d accept the idea, too. Although she was less surprised that Peggy had jumped at the chance, since she’d been the one most firmly caught in the middle between the two men.

Natasha did wonder exactly how things had turned out between Steve and Bucky - whether Steve had ever gotten that last bit of his fantasy fulfilled, or if they were just taking turns with Peggy or carefully avoiding contact with each other in bed. For his sake, she hoped it was the first possibility.

Maybe after a while to rebuild her friendship with Peggy, she’d even be able to find out the answer. Natasha’s only comfort in this whole mess was in knowing she’d done right by Steve, so it would be nice to have the extra confirmation that he’d gotten everything he wanted in the end.

“Speaking of Bucky, I hope things haven’t been uncomfortable between the two of you?” Peggy asked. “He hasn’t said anything about it. About any of it, if you’re wondering; just that he feels horrid for his part in what was done to you back then. I think he worries that you blame him.”

That was a bit of a relief. Natasha hadn’t been sure how much Bucky might tell his lovers about his past with her, or how much he even truly remembered. Not that there was much he could tell beyond what had been exposed in that first revelation, since most of the things she especially wanted to keep private were things she’d never shared with him, either.

“I’ll make a point of reassuring him there’re no hard feelings,” Natasha said. “I knew he was hesitant to approach me but I figured it was just awkwardness because of me and Steve.”

“I did notice you’d started calling him Bucky,” Peggy smiled at her. “So I assumed things couldn’t be too bad.”

“He’s been referring to me as Nata ever since that night,” Natasha pointed out. “I was only using Barnes because he refused to call me anything but Romanoff.” In her heart of hearts he would always be Yasha to her, but she couldn’t let herself think of him that way. That wasn’t who he was – it wasn’t ever who he’d truly been. 

At least he hadn’t continued using the diminutives. She could live with ‘Nata’, but there was no way she’d put up with anyone else calling her ‘Natashulya’. 

“It seems he prefers the distance of family names except with people he cares for, so it’s certainly a good sign that he’s calling you that.” Peggy paused, and when she continued she sounded tentative again. “There is one other question I wanted to ask you.” 

Ah-hah. Here it was at last, the real reason Peggy had reached out to her. “You can ask, but I don’t promise to answer,” Natasha shrugged.

“Of course. And I wouldn’t ask at all, it’s truly none of my business, except... well, there’s one thing in particular that seems to be eating at Steve, and he flatly refuses to elaborate.” Peggy’s cheeks were flushed with embarrassment, but she was determined. “He’ll only say that you ‘turned things personal’ towards the end of the fight. What did you _say_ to him?”

Natasha grimaced at the memory. “Nothing I should have. Usually when I get into a fight with someone I’m very calculated about it, but I’m ashamed to admit I was just lashing out at him.”

“Yes, but what was it?” Peggy persisted. 

“The usual thing you throw at a man when you’re pissed at him and want to take him down a notch,” Natasha sighed. “I made a barbed comment about his skill in bed.”

Peggy looked shocked and dismayed, which wasn’t anything Natasha hadn’t expected, except the reaction seemed much stronger than was warranted. “ _Natasha_ , you didn’t. Of all things.”

“What?” Natasha frowned, tilting her head. “It’s not like I said he was awful, just that he wasn’t so great I was compelled to spill all my secrets to him.”

“First of all, you were the only lover he’d ever had, so your opinion carries quite a bit more weight than it otherwise might,” Peggy said tartly. Natasha winced, because she honestly hadn’t considered that aspect.

Peggy wasn’t finished, though. “More importantly, he’s spent his _entire life_ being compared to Bucky by women, and coming out on the losing side. The miracle is that he never came to resent Bucky for it, but as much as he tries to pretend he’s not, he’s quite sensitive about it.”

“I didn’t compare the two of them,” Natasha protested. “It was just a general jab at Steve.”

“A jab you took immediately after admitting that Bucky was your first love and that you essentially never got over him,” Peggy retorted, exasperated. “You flat out declared you’ve never loved anyone since - which by necessity includes Steve. And then you implied he wasn’t even good enough in bed to be worth caring about at all.”

“I never told Steve that I loved him. Exactly the opposite, I told him from the beginning that it was never going to happen,” Natasha insisted, but her heart felt heavy as she absorbed the weight of what Peggy was saying. She’d intended to hurt Steve, not _decimate_ him.

It did explain why he’d immediately ended the argument and ordered her to get the hell out, though. 

“Well, at least now I know what it was, so I can perhaps help him over it,” Peggy sighed and leaned back in her chair. “It sounds like you both lost your tempers. I don’t blame you, I just wish you’d picked any other way to take a stab at him.” She studied Natasha for a moment, and gave her a wry smile. “Steve is right about one thing, though.”

“What’s that?” Natasha wasn’t entirely certain she wanted to hear the answer, with the way Peggy was looking at her.

“You really just can’t bring yourself to admit you’ve done anything wrong at all, can you?” Peggy shook her head. 

“I said I shouldn’t have lashed out at him,” Natasha objected.

“Yes but the moment I told you how badly you’d really hurt him, you started deflecting and justifying. You do realize that’s the part of all this that he’s truly angry about? He feels you’re refusing to take responsibility for your own actions.”

“I _didn’t_ do anything wrong as far as the mess with Bucky is concerned,” Natasha insisted, starting to grow angry all over again. Peggy had come to her asking for friendship and effectively declaring a truce, and now she was throwing the same damned arguments in Natasha’s face that Steve had. “He had no right to have expected me to tell him something that painful and private just because it involves someone he knows and cares about. It’s not like doing so would have gained him anything or helped Bucky in any way.”

“Of course he had no right, and I’ve spent the past two weeks battering myself against the brick wall of his abominably thick skull trying to get that through to him,” Peggy replied, startling Natasha. The last thing she’d expected was agreement. 

“Whether he had the right or not, he was legitimately hurt by the fact that you felt you couldn’t open up to him about something so important to both of you,” Peggy continued. “Really I think all it would have taken was if you’d started the whole argument off with the words ‘I’m sorry I hurt you, but,’ to acknowledge that. Instead you got his back up, and once that happens there’s just no dealing with him.”

“Truer words,” Natasha agreed fervently. Once Steve got it into his head that someone had done something ‘wrong’ he was like a dog with a bone, worrying at it constantly. He never let go and he never forgot, and arguing with him was a waste of breath. As she’d quite effectively proven.

Peggy chuckled, but sobered again quickly. “While I agree that your relationship with Steve, whatever its depth, does not entitle him to know the painful details of your most private memories when they have no immediate impact on the situation... Natasha, there is one thing you’re not accounting for.”

“Oh?” Natasha wasn’t sure she even wanted to ask. 

“You knew all along that eventually Steve would be bringing Bucky back, and once I was found that became an immediate certainty,” Peggy chided her. “You absolutely _should_ have warned Steve that you might well be a trigger for Bucky. You needn’t have gone into extreme personal detail, but what if the flashback Bucky had because of finally remembering you had been a very bad one? We wouldn’t have been prepared, and you potentially put the whole base at risk as a result.”

Thoroughly - and quite rightly - scolded, Natasha looked down at her food carton and chased a grain of rice around the bottom with the tip of her chopsticks. “He never showed any signs of recognizing me any of the other times I’d encountered him since leaving the Red Room, so I knew it was extremely unlikely it would happen right after he got here. I kept putting it off, telling myself there would be enough time after he got more settled. I suppose at some point I convinced myself that it was personal and private between us, so Yasha - Bucky - wouldn’t bring it up in public either, and we could just get it sorted out between the two of us without needing to involve anyone else.”

Glancing up, she saw that Peggy was giving her an impatient look. Natasha sighed. “Yes, all right, I made a mistake,” she forced herself to admit, and Peggy made a ‘finally!’ sort of gesture. “A big one. I knew Steve would feel betrayed that I’d kept it secret so long, and I didn’t want to deal with any of it, so I put my head in the sand. Despite what I try to convince people of, I’m not actually perfect.”

“Nobody is. Not even Steve, for all that a shocking number of people seem to believe he must be.” Peggy rolled her eyes, and Natasha snorted with amusement. It was true, a great many of Steve’s fans appeared to believe he was some kind of paragon of virtue, with no character flaws of any kind.

Then again, there were people who seemed to believe the same thing of Tony, so really there was just no accounting for the sanity of fans.

“He misses you terribly, you know,” Peggy told her softly. “Now that I’ve finally gotten him to admit that he was _also_ in the wrong I think the two of you might be able to sort things out, if you’ll only try.”

It was a tempting thought, but Natasha shook her head. “Not yet. Let him get more settled with the two of you. I would like my friendship with him back, but I don’t want him torn again over where his heart belongs.”

“So you’ll make him miserable to ensure he’s not miserable?” Peggy said dryly. “Why does he need to be torn over it? You’re the one who’s been insisting all along that you’re not interested in exclusivity.”

“ _You’d_ be all right with sharing?” Natasha asked, raising an eyebrow. “Long term, for real? It’s a lot harder than you think to avoid getting jealous, you know. Think about how much work you’re already putting into keeping the two of them balanced, and imagine it increasing exponentially again but with your heart as the one on the line. It would crush Steve if he ended up hurting you.”

“Well. Given that I’m insisting they share me with each other, it would be a bit greedy of me to refuse to allow them to have anyone else.” Peggy smiled at her. “Especially if it means Steve will stop dragging around like a whipped puppy, all the while trying to pretend there’s nothing wrong so he won’t ‘bother’ me and Bucky with the fact that he’s hurting.”

Once again Natasha had to fight off temptation, and it was stronger this time. _Much_ stronger. The part of her that was still struggling to get her head above water wanted absolutely nothing more than to jump on the offer, to huddle close to Steve and hoard whatever crumbs of affection she could get from him for as long as she could make it last. 

The problem was that he wasn’t offering crumbs. He was offering whole damned bakeries worth of affection – of love. He might claim he was all right with her not loving him back, but he didn’t really mean it, or he wouldn’t forever. She still couldn’t give him what he truly wanted, and it would be unfair to draw him back in only to hurt him all over again in the future. Better to let the wound that had already been dealt continue to heal over, instead of ripping off the partially formed scab.

Especially because if she went back to him now she was going to be forced to admit, at least to herself, that the reason she couldn’t bring herself to stay away was because she _was_ in love with him. This was her last hope of saving herself.

“It’s not just the fight,” she murmured. “I never wanted things to end so badly between us, but there are a lot of other reasons it’s not a good idea for me to open up the possibility of more again.”

“Implying that you did intend for things to end at some point,” Peggy said shrewdly. “You were planning this all along, weren’t you. Was Steve right? Were you just looking for an opportunity to bow out gracefully?”

“Of course. I knew it would end eventually, it had to. We don’t want the same things, long-term.” Natasha shrugged, making certain the gesture was careless, allowing nothing of what she truly felt to show in any way. _Bury it, bury it_ , her old mantra came back to her. In the Red Room, her life had depended more than once on her ability to convince them that nothing mattered to her except survival. “When you turned up it seemed like the perfect chance to at least make certain he wouldn’t be left alone as a result.”

“If you think he’s getting from me what you believe he wants but you can’t provide, how does that change if he’s with us both?” Peggy persisted. “There are things I can’t give him that you can – obviously, or he wouldn’t be hurting so very badly over losing you.”

“He’s hurting because he’s in love with me,” Natasha said. “I let things drag on too long, but he’ll get over me eventually and be better off.”

“Natasha. This is Steve we’re talking about,” Peggy shook her head. “Seventy years later, in love with you, and believing he couldn’t have me because I was with Bucky, he _still_ couldn’t bring himself to let go of his feelings for me. Do you truly think he’ll do any better at letting go of you?”

She had a point, unfortunately. “Do _you_ truly think it will make him happy being with me but knowing I don’t love him back?” Natasha countered.

“Are you so very certain you don’t?” Peggy raised an eyebrow at her, pinning her with a sharp look. 

“Yes,” Natasha insisted, even as her heart answered _’No.’_ “I’ll admit that what the three of you have is making me reconsider whether love is real at all. There’s no other reason I can think of that Bucky wouldn’t have killed Steve as ordered. But you’re the exception that very much proves the rule, as far as I’m concerned.”

“Is it because you still love him? Bucky?” Peggy asked, gentling her tone like she thought the question would scare Natasha off. “I can’t even imagine how much it must hurt that he hesitated to kill Steve, but never hesitated to hurt you.”

“No, you can’t.” Natasha’s voice sounded pained even to her, and she had to pause to take a breath before she continued. She couldn’t afford to react like that, or Peggy would never let it go. The other woman could be as stubborn as Steve, in her own way. 

“I never loved Bucky,” she continued when she was certain she’d give nothing further away. “I didn’t even know Bucky Barnes. The man I thought I knew, Yakov, was a figment of HYDRA’s imagination. They created him to train us, picking and choosing what pieces of him to keep and what pieces to replace, and when they were done with him they erased him. He was never anything more than a ghost.”

“A ghost that you loved.”

“A crush, more like.” This was still such a painful topic for her, and she thought it might never stop being one. It took everything Natasha had to sound unconcerned by the discussion. “I got over it the first time he nearly killed me. Trust me, I’m no threat to you as far as he’s concerned.”

“That’s far from what worries me.” Peggy studied her a moment longer, but Natasha was firmly in control of her emotions now and she let nothing slip through. “May I make a suggestion?”

“You’ve made several without hesitating, why stop now?” Natasha allowed herself a small smile so Peggy would know the words weren’t intended to be as harsh as they sounded.

“Because you’re going to like it even less than the ones I’ve made so far, I suspect,” Peggy answered with a rueful smile of her own. “Talk to Steve. Tell him what it is that makes you so certain things can’t work out between you. Let him decide whether it’s truly a deal breaker for him. Perhaps he’ll surprise you with a reasonable solution – or perhaps knowing that you tried everything you could to make it work will make it easier on you both to let it go without the loss being quite so painful.”

Once again, Peggy had a point. It would be an agonizing conversation for Natasha to have, but it would drive it home to both of them that it could never work out. She didn’t want to leave Steve hurting, after all. And anything that would make it easier for _her_ to pull herself back to the surface could only be an improvement, no matter how painful in the short term.

“I should be going, the boys are going to wonder what I’m up to,” Peggy said, moving to gather up the empty cartons. “I hope we can do this again? I promise it won’t always be such heavy conversation.”

“I’d like that,” Natasha said, and meant it. Peggy was one hell of a dame, as Steve would put it. She and Natasha had a surprising amount in common, for all that they came at life from opposite angles. Perhaps that was why they met in the middle. 

“One more thing?” Peggy smiled at her again, a conspiratorial expression this time. “Let Steve be the one to come to you, first. He bloody well owes you that apology.”

Natasha surprised herself with a genuine laugh. “Can I get away with making him grovel a little?”

“Oh, I think so.” Peggy winked at her. “One good thing about Steve; while it very nearly takes an act of god to make him admit he was wrong, once he _does_ admit it he’ll do whatever it takes to set things right.”

In some ways, that was exactly what Natasha was afraid of. What lengths would he go to, in order to ‘set things right’ between them? What if he convinced her it was worth trying the relationship anyway? He could be so damned persuasive when he was passionate about something. 

She wasn’t sure her heart could survive losing him again, if she let herself believe it could be possible to have him at all.


	2. Chapter 2

There were certain rituals Natasha had developed for when she wanted to unwind. It wasn’t a list to check off, just a number of things that could help individually or in combination. The banya was her first go-to possibility, though it was more public than she wanted most of the time. A scented, luxurious bubble bath was almost as good. Corny romantic comedy movies or ‘bodice-ripper’ romance novels were a personal favourite, because she got so much enjoyment out of mocking them mercilessly. An excellent vintage of wine or one of her own vodka martini creations was an option.

And of course, there was always chocolate. Good European chocolate, none of that nasty plastic shit Americans seemed to think deserved the name. Although to be fair some of the Soviet-era Russian chocolates were just as bad. Natasha just had much higher standards, these days.

Tonight was a triple-M night: movie, martini, and marzipan. With the latter being chocolate-covered, but that wasn’t as nicely alliterative. Natasha wasn’t really paying much attention to the movie, letting it run as background noise to her thoughts as she replayed the conversation with Peggy over and over.

Should she? Or shouldn’t she? Bare her heart and tell Steve everything so he would come to the inevitable conclusion that it could never work between them, or hide it all away and avoid the risk that he would reach the _wrong_ conclusion and drag her there with him?

Would it hurt more in the short term if she did, or in the long term if she didn’t? It was going to hurt like hell either way, that was impossible to escape at this point. Since the moment Bucky had recognized her, every move Natasha had made was nothing more than damage control.

Actually ‘control’ was far too strong a word, it was more like ‘damage reduction’. There wasn’t much Natasha felt like she was in control of these days.

The chime of her door alert startled her out of her increasingly morose thoughts. Pausing the movie, Natasha glanced warily towards the hall. “Door visual,” she commanded, and wasn’t really surprised when the holograph popped up to show Steve standing just outside.

He had that ‘I will finish this mission if it costs me my life’ grimly determined expression on his face that she knew so well. In a fight, that look was usually a sign it was time to call a ‘code green’ and get the Hulk involved because things were going so badly. It meant he was expecting to come out on the other side injured if at all, but felt what he was doing was too important to back down.

Not that Steve Rogers knew the meaning of the words ‘back down’, but he did occasionally admit to knowledge of ‘strategic retreat’.

It also meant that he wasn’t going to give up and go away, so there was really no point in trying to avoid him. Sighing, Natasha shut off the movie and shifted so she was sitting properly in the armchair instead of slung sideways over the arms. “Come in.”

Good thing she’d gone straight for the chocolate and vodka and hadn’t bothered stripping down to put on something more comfortable, first. Not that Natasha couldn’t have conducted this particular conversation in a negligee, but it would have made things a tad more awkward.

Steve was wearing what she’d mentally dubbed his ‘semi-uniformal’ outfit, with his uniform boots, pants, and the tight shirt that went beneath his jacket but none of the rest of his Captain America gear. Natasha wondered if he realized how much of his mindset he’d given away with the choice of clothing.

It indicated that he considered this to be a battle and subconsciously wanted some form of armour, and that he was approaching it as a sort of ‘mission’. He was feeling defensive and trying to combat that with tactical thinking, while acknowledging that an offensive strategy was the wrong tack to take.

“Bit late for a team strategy session, isn’t it?” she asked him, keeping her voice carefully light and curious, ever the consummate professional.

“It’s not about the team,” Steve said, his voice rough. He came to a halt two steps into her living room, just far enough back that she could see his face without having to crane her neck, and hooked his thumbs over his belt buckle. Usually that was a casual posture for him but in this case was more of a nervous tick. He had his eyes locked on hers like his life depended on not looking away - not as if he was trying to stare her down, but perhaps because it was the only way he could meet her eyes at all.

Taking a deep breath, he visibly steeled himself to continue. “I came to offer an apology. I overreacted about the whole thing with Bucky. I was angry and I let that control me, and I shouldn’t have. I had _no_ right to demand that information from you, or to be upset that you hadn’t offered it. I’m sorry.”

Peggy hadn’t been kidding - when Steve admitted he was wrong, he didn’t hold anything back. Not that he ever did. Natasha studied his expression curiously, watching the mixture of guilt and self-recrimination and remorse that ran over his face. ‘Hang-dog’ would be a good description for it. Why did she always find herself comparing both Steve and Bucky to some sort of dog?

Apparently her silence made him nervous; he licked his lips and glanced away, before dragging his eyes back to hers with great effort. “I could see you were hurt and upset, and I attacked you anyway,” he continued, the words starting to rush together as he grew more flustered. “It all just spiralled out of control and I couldn’t seem to stop myself, but that’s no excuse. I hope you can forgive me. Whether you do or not, though, I really am sorry.”

Still she said nothing, partly because she honestly wasn’t certain how to answer him, but partly because she wanted to see what he would do. Steve shifted his weight from one foot to the other, then straightened his back abruptly like he’d just remembered he was supposed to be standing at attention. His expression grew increasingly anxious. “Natasha? Please, say something?”

Finally she took pity on him. “I’m just debating whether to demand you go down on your knees before I accept the apology,” she said, giving no hint of whether she was serious or not.

“I will if that’s what you want,” he assured her, so sincere that from anyone else she’d have assumed it was _insincere_.

“I know,” she admitted with a sigh. “You wouldn’t even hesitate, that’s why it wouldn’t be satisfying.” She tilted her head at the other chair in a silent invitation. For a moment she thought he wouldn’t take it, wound too tight to relax even that much, but in the end he sighed and perched on the edge of the seat like he believed she’d take offense if he got too comfortable.

“No flowers or chocolate?” she asked, raising an eyebrow at his empty hands. “I thought that sort of thing was traditional when apologizing to your girl.”

“If I need to _buy_ your forgiveness, seems to me that just means the apology wasn’t honest enough.” Steve shrugged, awkward and solemn. “It ought to stand on its own.”

He was too earnest to be real. How the hell had the two of them ever ended up in this mess together in the first place? Opposites might attract, but they were _polar_ opposites in so many ways Natasha wondered sometimes how they even managed to communicate. He saw the world in black and white while she saw nothing but shades of grey, and the two viewpoints should have been mutually exclusive.

Then again, when they were working together it meant that between the two of them they usually managed to see the whole picture, and that was part of what made them such an amazing team.

“I owe you an apology as well,” she told him. He frowned in confusion, and she shrugged and glanced away. “Peggy might have come by to rub my nose in the fact that I put the entire base at risk by not warning you that I could be a trigger for Bucky, a bad one.”

“You too, huh?” Steve’s voice was dry, but when she looked back there was a sort of exasperated affection in his eyes, along with resignation. “She’s good at that.”

“Well, somebody has to be, I guess,” Natasha said. “The point is, I made a mistake and I am sorry for that. And Steve, I’m sorry for hurting you. Both by not telling you the truth, and by... saying what I did, at the end, about the sex. That was inexcusable, and I didn’t mean it.”

“Yeah, you did,” Steve sighed, but he didn’t seem angry about it now. “And you weren’t wrong. It doesn’t matter how good I am, it wouldn’t somehow compel you to tell me everything.”

“No, but I definitely didn’t mean the corresponding implication that you _aren’t_ damn good at it,” Natasha said with a rueful smile. “Trust me, that part was just me lashing out to cause pain. I’m not usually so childish.”

“You were hurting pretty bad,” Steve replied, soft and sympathetic. “And I wasn’t behaving much better. So you forgive me, then? Are we okay?”

He looked so agonizingly hopeful Natasha knew she was going to break his heart all over again if she didn’t give him the answer he wanted. But if she did, she’d only break his heart all the harder in the end.

“I forgive you,” she answered cautiously. He waited for the second agreement, and bit his lip as hope faded when it didn’t come. Shoulders slumping, he nodded as if confirming the reality of it to himself.

Confirming it, resigning himself to it, but not letting the pain of it go. Peggy was right; Steve would never move past it if Natasha didn’t at least let him feel like he’d given it his best shot. She had to explain.

“There are other things I’ve never told you,” she said, struggling to keep her voice from going hoarse. She could have steadied it completely, but that would require shutting down and she wanted him to see that she was trying to match his sincerity. “Things about my past that would make a pretty big impact on... on what we have.”

He frowned, searching her eyes. She saw him reach some kind of decision, and he leaned back and spread his arms. “You know what? I’m declaring open season on confessions. Anything you wanna tell me for the next twenty four hours, I swear I won’t get mad at you. Not without a damned good reason, and I might just run that reason by Peggy first to make sure it’s actually a good one before I say anything.”

Despite herself Natasha smiled. “Probably not a bad plan,” she acknowledged. “It’s not... it’s not something that will get you mad at me, though. Just something that might be a dealbreaker.”

It wasn’t a surprise when he took her hands in his and squeezed. The surprising part was realizing how much her hands were trembling when he did it. “Natasha, there’s not a single thing I can think of you could possibly tell me that would be such an issue I wouldn’t want to be with you. I love you.”

Trying to get the explanation out directly proved to be futile; when Natasha opened her mouth nothing came out. Swallowing, she decided to come at it sideways instead. Maybe if she worked up to it, she could brace herself better.

“I know you’ve been telling everyone lately that you don’t want a family, anymore. That the man who wanted that sort of thing went into the ice and never came out. I know you even believe it yourself.” Meeting his eyes again, Natasha managed a crooked smirk. “I don’t believe it, though. Neither does anyone else who’s met you for longer than ten minutes. You thought you couldn’t have it, so you were convincing yourself you didn’t want it. To keep it from hurting so much. But now you can have that family, that stability. Peggy can give that to you. I can’t.”

“What do you mean, you can’t?” he asked, when it was clear that she wasn’t going to continue.

“I mean I _can’t_ , Steve.” Natasha had to keep pausing to catch her breath and steady her voice again, and it was making this even longer and harder than it should have been. The temptation to just bury the emotions and discuss it like it had happened to someone else was strong, but she continued to fight her instincts. She’d told Bruce the truth without hiding, and Steve deserved no less. “You remember, when we first got together, you asked if we were going to regret it in nine months?”

Steve nodded, cautious and wary, and Natasha tilted her head in an attempt at a casual gesture. “I told you then that I couldn’t do my job if I had to worry about that sort of thing. I learned that from the Red Room. They wanted perfect killers, and they didn’t want us to be distracted. Or worse, find something more important than the mission. So they ensured it would never happen.”

Shock and pity flooded his eyes, and Natasha had to look away again before it destroyed what little control she had over herself. “It’s permanent. I asked the SHIELD docs to check at one point, out of morbid curiosity. The Red Room used the nastiest, most scarring method possible, and they found a way to make the eggs chemically unviable just to be certain.”

At that point her voice broke, and Natasha couldn’t bring herself to continue. There was really nothing more to say, anyway. It was Steve’s turn, now.

But the silence dragged on and on until finally she turned back to him. His expression was _not_ what she’d expected. The shock and pity were still there, but they’d been joined by a sort of bewildered hurt, not the disappointment and dismay she’d anticipated.

“ _This_ is what’s had you so convinced all along that it couldn’t possibly work out between us?” he demanded when he saw that he had her attention again. Baffled by his tone, she nodded, and he tugged his hands free so he could run one through his hair in an exasperated gesture. “Christ, Natasha. You know, even in my time I’m pretty sure we already had the concept of adoption.”

“It’s not the same,” she insisted. “You deserve to have your _own_ children. Hell, the world deserves to have your children. I’m sure they’ll be every bit as amazing as you. Especially with Peggy as their mother. ”

“So why can’t I still have that? With Peggy, if you’re so convinced it’s somehow necessary to my future happiness to know I’ve passed on my genes.” Steve was staring at her now like she’d turned into an alien and he suddenly couldn’t understand anything she was saying. “Or do your rules change if it’s a serious relationship?”

“How the hell should I know? I’ve never successfully had one before,” Natasha retorted. “Unless you count Yasha, but in hindsight there wasn’t a single thing about that relationship that wasn’t utterly fucked up. It’s not what I’d want to use as a model.”

“No.” Steve was shaking his head slowly, his jaw set and eyes narrowed in that famous stubborn expression of his. “No, there’s no way that’s all of it. Maybe you’re telling yourself that’s the real reason, but Natasha, you’re not this... stupid. I’m sorry, there’s no other word for it. Or else you think _damned_ little of me, if you believe I would leave you over nothing but the fact that you can’t have my children. What the hell are you really so scared of?”

What was she scared of? Pressing the knuckles of one fist to her lips like that would help her contain the emotions racing through her, Natasha struggled with the question. It didn’t help that he was treating the issue like it was no big deal, when it felt like a really fucking big deal to her. She knew he didn’t mean to belittle her pain, he was just trying to get to the heart of the matter, but he had no way of knowing just _how_ badly this particular topic affected her.

He wasn’t wrong, though. There was more to it. “I’m afraid of... of being second best,” she choked out. “Face it, what attracted you to me in the first place are the things I have in common with Peggy. Hell, Yasha - Bucky - outright admitted he fell for me because I reminded him of ‘Her’. I’ll always be the replacement, the alternative. That’s why you couldn’t let go of your feelings for her even though you had me.”

“Didn’t we already have this discussion, the first time you tried to break it off with me so I could go to her?” Steve asked, plaintive. “I chose you over her then, and I’d choose you over her now. If there’s one thing I’ve learned in the last couple of weeks... yeah, it hurt me not to have Peggy while I was with you. But it hurts a lot more not to have you while I’m with her.”

“Because she at least was happy with Bucky even though she didn’t have you, and you knew I was alone,” Natasha countered. “You were worried about me, that’s all. You felt guilty for being happy with them when you knew I had nothing.”

“Maybe that’s part of it, but it’s not the only reason,” Steve insisted, frowning at her.

“Even if I believed that, even if I agreed for the sake of argument that it’s true now, what about in a year or two?” Natasha said, her voice rising with every word despite her best efforts to keep it level. “When she’s given you that family, and you’re concentrating on them like you damn well should be, and I’m left standing on the edge? How the fuck could I hope to compete with the _mother of your children_ , Steve?”

And there it was, the real crux of the problem. Natasha was astonished to realize it. All this time she’d been telling herself she was acting selflessly, making certain that Steve would have what he needed to be happy. Meanwhile it had been jealousy motivating her from the start, the certainty that because she couldn’t give him children, she would never be able to keep hold of his heart against the pull of the woman who could.

At some point she’d gotten up, driven to her feet by the sheer force of her unexpected emotions. He stood to meet her, leaving them just inches apart, close enough for her to feel the heat radiating from his body. Part of her yearned to close that gap, to just throw herself in his arms and pretend it would be enough, if only she could have him for now.

“Why don’t you try telling me what it is you really want, and let _me_ decide whether it’s a dealbreaker?” Steve said, his voice low and intense as his gaze bored into her. “I told you before, you’ve got no right to make that choice for me. It’s insulting that you think you can even try. How the hell can I prove it to you, Natasha? What do you need from me?”

It was too much, the revelation and the emotional agony and the flat demand in his words. “Fine,” she blurted out, all of it boiling up and spilling over until even she didn’t know what would come out of her mouth next. There was no thought, no rationality, just pure instinct. “Fine, you want to know what I need to make this work? _Yes_ , I want to change the rules. I want to be the only woman in your life, because that’s the only fucking way I’ll know I’m anything more than a distant second place. If you really want to choose me, pick up your phone right now and call her, tell her it’s over.”

Finally he broke his stare, running a hand over his face as if that would hide his rapidly growing anguish and misery. For a moment Natasha thought he was already conceding defeat, but when he looked back he only asked, “Over the _phone_? In front of you?”

Reconsidering, Natasha sighed. It was true that if he pulled a stunt like that under any other circumstances, she’d personally kick his ass for being an inconsiderate jerk. “All right, no, that’s incredibly rude. Go, then. You’ve got half an hour. Come back single, or don’t come back at all.”

She pointed imperiously at the door, and it took every bit of will she had not to let tears spill over as she met the despair in his eyes with her own desperation. Turning away, Steve braced a hand on the wall and bowed his head, shoulders shaking and breathing harsh as he struggled with her demand.

“I knew you couldn’t do it,” she stated with a dark smile when he still hadn't budged some time later. It was far from being a victory, but there was a certain vindication in knowing she’d been right.

“Give me a fucking minute, Natasha, this isn’t something I’m going to decide on a whim,” Steve snapped, his anger catching her by surprise. It implied that he was truly considering it, not just fighting to accept that he couldn’t do what she wanted and that meant it was over.

“Why are you even trying? We both know what your answer is going to be,” she said.

Shifting to face her again, Steve glared down at her. The anger was a thin veneer over agony and desolation, but under it all lay pure stubborn determination. “Still so damned sure you know me better than I know myself. _Swear_ to me, if I do this you’ll take me back. No ‘maybe’ about it. If I break Peggy’s heart for nothing, I will never forgive you.”

Searching his eyes and expression, Natasha tried to find some sign that he was bluffing. No, he was trying to call _her_ bluff, which meant she needed to raise the stakes. “And if I said adoption was off the table? That it would only rub salt in the wound?”

That made him swallow hard, but didn’t shake the determination. “Then I’ll play uncle to Peggy and Bucky’s kids. You do it with Clint’s.”

“Trust me, it’s not enough,” Natasha told him, her voice rough. “That just makes it hurt more.” Still he waited for her to promise she would take him back. “What if I say I don’t want to have to watch you pining over her? Looking at her kids and regretting that they’re not yours? What if I want her gone?”

With a deep breath in Steve straightened his back, and resettled his shoulders on the exhale. She’d seen him do that before, and it meant he’d gone to a new level of deadly serious. “Then this conversation would be over,” he declared, implacable. “Nobody dictates who my friends are or whether I get to spend time with them.”

“So you do have limits.” She wasn’t certain if that was a good thing, or not.

“Of course I have limits, Natasha,” Steve exclaimed. “I’m not a damned doormat. I’m willing to compromise, but I won’t surrender everything.”

“I thought you just weren’t taking it seriously, so you’d agree to anything.” No matter how deeply she looked, Natasha still couldn’t find any indication that he didn’t mean it. But he couldn’t. He _couldn’t_.

Raising her chin, she took a deep breath of her own. “If you choose me, I’m all yours,” she promised him. “No more holding back. No more testing or pushing you away.”

For a minute longer he stared at her, the battle within him showing clearly on his face as he struggled. Hope and despair, love and anger, need and frustration fought for dominance in his expression, with no one emotion winning for long before another took over. “Stay there,” he ordered her at last, his voice ragged and harsh.

Then he turned and walked to the door, and Natasha watched him go in shocked disbelief. She was positive he would stop in the doorway, but he didn’t so much as glance back before the door slid closed and hid him from view.

Natasha’s heart was pounding so hard and fast she could feel it shaking her chest, and she half thought she was going to be sick. She staggered forward a step so she could clutch at the back of the chair he’d been sitting in, because otherwise she was going to fall over.

He wasn’t going to actually do it. There was _no way_ Steve was going out there to break up with Peggy so he could be with Natasha. No way. He was making her sweat, just waiting for her to chase after him and say she didn’t mean it. Any moment, he’d give up and come back through that door to admit defeat.

Any moment.

Any. Moment.

 


	3. Chapter 3

Feeling as though she must surely be going into shock, Natasha wobbled her way to the door and braced herself against it with one hand. “One way sound and transparency,” she whispered, unable to raise her voice any farther than that for fear she’d lose it entirely. The computer heard and obeyed anyway.

“...need to talk to you,” Steve was saying. He stood just outside Peggy’s door, a look of bleak despair mixed with anguished determination on his face. 

For her part Peggy was wide-eyed and dismayed, staring up at her lover with a hand over her heart. “Steve, what is it? What’s happened, are you all right?”

Glancing down the corridor, which was empty for the moment but could fill with people at any second, Steve shook his head. “In private? Please?”

Oh, god, she couldn’t let him do this. He’d sacrificed and suffered so much to get to this point, all three of them had, and Natasha was going to tear it away from them in a fit of jealousy?

“Don’t,” she blurted out, but she had to slap at the door controls three times before she managed to actually open it. He was already almost into Peggy’s quarters by the time she succeeded, inches from the door shutting behind him.

“Steve, don’t!” Natasha exclaimed, clutching at her doorframe to stay on her feet as her knees threatened to turn to water. “Don’t, please, I didn’t mean it. I was testing you, I didn’t think you would _do it_!”

White-faced and tight-lipped, Steve turned to stare at her. She could tell the moment her words actually sank in, because he sagged against the wall and hid his face in his hands, shaking. Peggy reached out to brace his shoulder, looking back and forth between the two of them as if she could somehow divine what was happening from their expressions.

“Jesus Christ, Romanoff,” Steve finally gasped, raising his head to aim a furious glare at Natasha. “You can be a real bitch sometimes, you know that?”

“Steve!” Peggy sounded scandalized, but he didn’t look away from Natasha for a moment.

Closing her eyes to escape the near-hatred burning in his expression, Natasha shook her head. Swallowing, she forced herself to meet his gaze and somehow produced a crooked smile. “You’re just now realizing this?”

“What on earth is going on between the two of you?” Peggy demanded. 

“Just making him grovel after all,” Natasha told her, fighting hard to steady her voice. She wasn’t terribly successful, and she could feel tears threatening again. Part of her was absolutely horrified that she was allowing this much emotion to show, not just in front of Steve and Peggy but in a _public location_ , but if she tried to bury this she was afraid the resulting internal pressure would cause an explosion she couldn’t survive.

“She said if I wanted to be with her, I had to leave you,” Steve told Peggy, his voice ragged with emotional reaction to what had almost happened. “So that’s what I was doing.”

“Steve!” It was Natasha’s turn to sound scandalized. “Damn it, now you’re just hurting her. You didn’t have to tell her that!”

“Yes, I did.” Straightening, Steve looked down at her, his jaw set. “If this is going to work, any of it, then all four of us have to understand exactly where we stand and where each others’ priorities are. My first priority is you, Natasha, and both of you need to know that.”

When Natasha opened her mouth to answer him, nothing happened. Blinking rapidly, she fought to get words through the tightness in her throat, but still nothing would come. In desperation she turned to Peggy, expecting the other woman to look devastated. 

There was certainly hurt in Peggy’s expression, but it was a pain born of compassion as much as heartbreak. “I thought as much, with the way you’ve been acting,” she confessed, her voice soft and gentle. She was speaking to Steve, but it was Natasha she was watching with a sad smile. “I don’t mind. Second place in your heart means more than first place in most men’s, Steve. We all know that if push came to shove I’d put Bucky ahead of you. I just want you to be happy.”

“You’re insane, both of you,” Natasha told them, still unable to convince herself this was really happening.

“So, does that mean you two will finally stop working us to death as a way to deal with your frustration with each other?” Rhodey broke in, causing all three of them to turn to look down the hall. He was standing there with his arms crossed, watching them with a raised eyebrow. “Because I gotta tell you, it’s getting old fast.”

“You _want_ latrine duty for a month, Rhodes?” Steve asked, with a raised eyebrow of his own. His cheeks were flushed with embarrassment, but his eyes were hard. “I’ll find a way to give it to you, see if I don’t.”

Unlike Sam the last time they’d had a public fight, Rhodey refused to back down, shaking his head. “None of my business what you do with your personal lives, but seriously, get it sorted already. One way or the other. If you think it’s not affecting the team, you’re kidding yourselves.”

Abashed, Natasha fought down a blush of her own. She’d thought they were doing a better job than that of not letting their personal problems spill over into their work, aside from the awkward distance between them. This was why ‘office romances’ were such a bad idea even for people who didn’t have the kind of emotional baggage Natasha carried.

She tilted her head at Steve. “Come back?” she invited. “He’s right, we need to sort this out.”

Steve glanced down at Peggy as if asking for permission. She rolled her eyes, and shoved him forcefully towards Natasha. “Go,” she scolded him. “Stop fretting over what I think and worry about yourself for once! Before I try hitting you outright to determine if I can literally smack some sense into you, seeing as I apparently haven’t accomplished it figuratively.”

Lips twitching despite the tightness still in her throat, Natasha nodded her thanks to the other woman. She truly did like Peggy in her own right. Who wouldn’t?

Stepping back as Steve crossed the corridor, Natasha waited until he was inside before she shut and locked the door, turning it opaque again. That left them standing there staring at each other, close enough to touch but neither of them wanting to be the first to reach out.

“We’ve got to stop living our lives in that damned hallway,” Steve finally said, sighing.

“What, and deprive the base of their favourite soap opera?” Natasha countered, her voice hoarse but level. “I’d feel guilty. We could move all four of us to one side of the corridor and build an inner hall between our quarters, I suppose.”

“Or you could just stop _testing_ me like that,” Steve replied in frustration. “How could you do that to me?”

“I didn’t think you’d actually go through with it,” Natasha said, unable to meet his eyes. 

“That’s not the point,” Steve retorted. “What the hell is it going to take to convince you, Natasha?”

“Make me believe it. Make me understand _why_ ,” she asked, begged, desperate to find a drop of sense in the sea of impossibilities. “How could you choose me over her? _Her_ of all people?”

Staring into the distance over her head, Steve appeared to consider the question. When he refocused on her, his expression was wary but unwavering. “It’s true that the qualities that first attracted me to you are also the ones that first attracted me to her. That’s not the same thing as wanting you because you _remind_ me of her, Natasha. You’re both strong, independent women who can handle yourselves in any situation, who don’t need rescuing but won’t refuse a helping hand, or hesitate to offer one in return. You’re capable, you’re sharp, and you’re good partners on and off the battlefield.” 

He paused to chew his lower lip, like he was debating something. “Maybe most of all, I genuinely believe neither of you could care less about what I _look_ like, though for different reasons. She knew and liked me before I was changed, and you understand better than most that physical attractiveness is irrelevant to who someone is inside. Do you really think there’s any woman I could fall for who _wouldn’t_ fit any of those descriptions?”

“No,” Natasha was forced to admit. When he put it that way, it seemed obvious. “All right, so maybe I was wrong about that part. That still doesn’t explain how you could love me _more_ than her.”

Again he had to take a moment to contemplate the question, and she could see his struggle to put his feelings into words. “In Sokovia, when I refused to leave with one civilian still in the city, do you remember what you said to me?”

Blinking at the abrupt left turn the conversation had taken, Natasha thought back. “What, when I admired the view?”

“Before that.”

“That I never said we should leave?” What the hell did that have to do with anything?

“I think you’re the only one I would have believed that from,” he told her, serious and solemn. “Any of the others, I’d’ve known they were just placating me. You meant it. You understood why I wouldn’t go, without question.”

“Peggy would have...” Natasha started, but he held up a hand to stop her.

“You asked, so let me answer,” he insisted. “Not once, in all the time I’ve known and worked with you, have I ever seen you fail to step up when it mattered. You may not always be sure what the right thing _is_ , but when you are sure, you do it. No hesitation, regardless of what it will cost you. You threw yourself into the fight with the Chitauri, you backed me against Fury when I said SHIELD had to go, and you agreed when I refused to leave Sokovia. I know that’s because you feel you have to make up for your past, to get the red out of that ledger I’ve heard you talk about, but if you weren't a person who wants to do the right thing, you wouldn't feel the need to pay penance for the times when you didn't. The point is that for four years, you've been the one standing by my side in _every_ fight that mattered.”

Bewildered, Natasha stared at him. “That’s not...”

This time he covered her mouth with his hand, hushing her forcibly. “With everything the Red Room did to mould you into what they wanted you to be, with everything they forced _you_ to do to try to turn you into the monster I know you fear you are... with all that, you jumped at the opportunity to switch sides first chance you got, and you never looked back. You’ve been tested and tempered in the worst kind of fire and came through it a genuinely good person at heart, even if you don’t always believe that. I’m not sure Peggy could have done the same. Hell, I’m not sure I could have. You've overcome impossible odds to be the person you are, and that makes the person you are even more incredible and amazing. If all that wasn’t enough to stop you from wanting to do the right thing, then nothing ever will. There is _no one_ I trust at my back more than you.”

Finally he lifted his hand to indicate it was her turn, but Natasha had never been more at a loss for words in her life. Not once in that whole speech had he even mentioned ‘love’, and yet it shone through in every sentence. If he’d gone down on one knee and proposed, it wouldn’t have had nearly as much impact as what he’d just said. She knew he trusted her, that had been true since they’d discovered that HYDRA had been in control all along, but she hadn’t realized it went that deep.

“What, not even Bucky?” she finally asked, because she had to say _something_ and it was the only thing she could come up with.

That earned her a smile, though his eyes remained solemn. “There’s no one I’d _rather_ have at my back than Bucky,” he admitted. “But you and I both know he’s not exactly a stable element at the moment. Someday when he gets himself put back together properly, yeah, he’ll be right up there with you. He’ll have gone through that same fire, and I’ll know that nothing can ever shake or subvert him. So then I’ll have you guys at either side and be twice as happy. Don't get me wrong, it's not that I wouldn't want Peggy there, too. She's on the list of people I trust without question. But you've been on it longer, and through even worse situations. Just because she had my heart first doesn't mean you can't overtake her.”

There had been others who’d looked into the darkness of Natasha’s heart and somehow believed they saw goodness there. Yasha had been the first, and Clint had arguably been the most important, though Fury came in as a close second. But all of them had believed in that goodness _despite_ what she’d been through, what she’d done.

Never before had someone looked at the dripping red in her ledger and declared that they believed she was good _because_ of it. Not just believed it - _knew_ it, took it as absolute proof that she would always want to do the right thing if she could.

For the first time in her life Natasha began to accept that maybe, just maybe, her past as a villain didn’t mean she couldn’t now be a hero for real.

And that maybe, just maybe, someone like Steve could truly love her for it.

“What the fuck am I even supposed to say to that?” she asked, the words a harsh rasp around the tears she was barely holding back.

Steve tilted his head, the smile finally entering his eyes and joined by a fragile, desperate hope. “Well, I can think of one thing,” he said, trying and utterly failing to achieve a joking tone. His voice was as rough as hers, all of it just as much of an emotional slap to the face for him as it was for her.

She knew what he wanted to hear, and god, nobody had ever deserved it more. Throwing herself into his arms at last, Natasha clung to him and buried her face against his shoulder to hide the tears she could no longer repress. “I love you,” she whispered, strangled but heartfelt.

A shudder ran through him, and he closed his arms around her so tightly it was hard to breathe. Natasha wasn’t inclined to protest, not in the least. “I love you too,” he told her gruffly. “That wasn’t so hard to say, was it?”

Prying one hand free from the clutching grip she had on his shirt, Natasha punched him. Hard. “Shut the hell up, you have no idea,” she muttered into his chest, and felt his shoulders shake as he laughed silently.

Lifting one hand to cup the back of her head, Steve cradled her to him. The warmth of his body seeped into her bones, and the familiar scent of him curled around her and teased her with the idea of ‘home’. That wasn’t a concept she’d ever thought she would understand, but here, in his arms, was the closest she’d ever come.

“I know you said you were just testing me, but Nat, I can’t help feeling like that demand was real,” he broke the silence after some indefinable amount of time. “If you’re only taking it back because you’re afraid I’ll come to resent you in the end, this isn’t going to work. You’ll still be hurt, and we’ll _all_ end up miserable.”

“I needed proof that I really was your top priority, and you gave me that,” Natasha said. “Never mind you coming to resent me, I’m not sure I could live with myself if I took them from you. Fuck, Steve. What the three of you have is what convinced me that love is real after all. If I refused to allow you to be with them in order to satisfy my own jealousy, what would that say about my feelings for you? How could I call that ‘love’?”

“No more tests, then? Have I convinced you once and for all?”

“I can’t promise I’ll never have another moment of doubt,” she admitted. “Well I could, except I’m trying out a new policy not to make promises I know I’ll break. But yeah, you’ve convinced me.”

“Good.” Steve caught her chin in his hand and lifted it so they were looking squarely into each other’s eyes, and she was startled to see that all traces of amusement and affection had fled from his expression. He was once more deadly serious. “Because that was your one free shot, Natasha. If you ever do something like that to me again, we’re through. I will not be controlled - not by domination, and not by manipulation. Understand?”

Chilled right through by the unexpected ice in his voice, Natasha shivered as the reality of his words sank in. She’d come _so close_ to throwing away the best thing that had ever happened to her by trying to prove to herself that she had it in the first place.

‘All’s fair in love and war’ was not a statement Steve would ever agree with, she knew that. He had hard lines that he refused to cross in both arenas, and she’d skated right up to the edge of one of them. Over it, even, but he was allowing her the one fault because she hadn’t been aware the line was there. Now she was, and if she ever crossed it again there would be no going back.

“I understand,” she whispered, because she knew he wouldn’t budge until he had the verbal confirmation. 

The chill left his eyes as he leaned down, and by the time his mouth met hers there was nothing but warmth and love in his embrace. She kissed him back passionately, tasting the salt of her own tears mixed with the sweet flavour of his tongue against hers.

Somehow they made it to the bedroom, shedding clothes carelessly along the way and breaking the increasingly frantic kiss only when they absolutely had to. Steve swept her off her feet and fell onto the bed with her, turning so she would end up on top of him. He had one hand buried in her hair and the other at her hip, urging her into place over him. 

With so little foreplay Natasha wasn’t wet, but she refused to let that stop her. There was nothing she needed more in that moment than him inside her, because she knew she wouldn’t truly believe any of it was real until she could feel every possible inch of him against her. Her training allowed her to fix the problem with a couple of deep breaths and a mental trigger phrase - it was a reflexive physical reaction, not true arousal, but that would follow soon enough.

Steve cried out as she sank down onto him, obviously not having expected her to be ready yet. Natasha rocked her hips, gasping against his mouth as the motion rubbed her breasts over his chest and ground her clit into his pelvis. Genuine heat spilled through her at the contact, warming her from the inside out and already starting to pool inside her. 

Moving his hand from her hip, Steve caught her breast and pinched the nipple, tugging it hard enough to make her shudder. They’d been together long enough now that he knew all her hot spots, knew the best ways to touch her to make her whimper in pleasure or scream in frustration. 

Of course, she also knew his. Licking at the roof of his mouth, Natasha raked her nails down over his chest and followed it up with a sharp bite on his lower lip. He moaned and arched up into the contact, taking over the slow rhythm she’d been setting and thrusting into her hard and fast. 

Breaking the kiss at last, Natasha pushed herself up with her hands on his chest, nails still digging in as she leaned her weight on him. The change in angle had him rubbing against her g-spot with every push, and let him get both hands on her breasts to tease and torment her nipples.

It might have been the fastest genuine orgasm she’d ever experienced, the pleasure overwhelming her so quickly she didn’t even have a chance to see it coming. Natasha screamed and clenched tight around him, and saw him close his eyes and throw his head back as ecstasy overcame him as well. Like parched ground soaking up rain after a drought, they tried to drown themselves in each other and came out on the other side panting but satisfied.

Well, somewhat satisfied. Natasha never quite stopped moving her hips as they recovered, knowing they weren’t anywhere near done yet. Sometimes Steve’s incredible endurance could be too much to handle, but right now Natasha wished they could just keep going forever.

When he had his breath back Steve caught her by the waist and flipped her over, and Natasha wrapped her legs around his waist to hold him close as he thrust into her with long, slow strokes. Motions that had been swift and brutal a moment before became soft and teasing, a gentle build-up that would lead to a peak far higher than the last. 

“Steve,” Natasha moaned as he trailed biting kisses over her throat and shoulder. She ran her hands over his back, tracing the muscles and scraping her nails against the ridges of his spine the way she knew he liked, and he retaliated by sliding his hands under her ass and lifting to make certain he was hitting her g-spot again.

It went on and on, each thrust just a tiny bit harder than the last, until the bed rocked beneath them in time with their movements and Natasha feared she would break to pieces in the best way. She fought off the second orgasm, not wanting to lose track of the exquisite feel of him inside her for even a moment, but it was a battle she was doomed to lose in the end.

“Come with me,” she gasped as she felt the tension inside her wind to the breaking point. “Please, Steve, I want to feel you. I want to feel it inside me. Please!”

He groaned and pushed hard into her one last time, slamming her over the edge. Natasha closed her eyes and clung to him, savouring the waves of pleasure as she felt the hot pulse of his seed within her. The single regret marring the moment was in knowing that feeling could never result in anything _but_ pleasure, but even that wasn’t enough to ruin the perfection of it for her.

When the last of the aftershocks had passed, he rolled onto his side and stretched out against her, sliding one arm under her head to support her and resting the other on her waist.

No... on her abdomen, his thumb tracing slow arcs against the skin. Natasha didn’t dare look at his expression, afraid of what she would see there after all. “It does bother you,” she whispered, dropping her hand to cover his.

He stilled, going stiff for a moment before he relaxed against her again. “Am I disappointed that there’s not even a chance of it ever happening? Yeah, a little,” he admitted gruffly. Pushing himself up on his elbow, he looked down at her in such a way that she couldn’t avoid him without being obvious about it. “The part that bothers me is how much it upsets _you_. Why is it so important to you, Natasha? To the point that you don’t even consider adoption to be a perfectly reasonable substitute?”

There was no way she could bring herself to explain, not that. Not even to him. _Maybe_ someday to Bucky, though she wasn’t convinced that would accomplish anything except to make him hurt as badly over the lost possibility as she did. “I can’t,” she said, her voice breaking. “I’m sorry, I just... I can’t.”

“All right,” he said softly, and pulled his hand out from under hers to stroke her cheek instead. “Is the whole topic off limits, or just your reasons?”

When she looked into his eyes she saw sympathy so deep it nearly made her cry again. She wondered if it was only his astonishing ability to empathize with the pain of others, or if he suspected some of the truth. 

“Just my reasons,” she forced herself to say, though she wanted to give the other answer. That was the coward’s way out. He was respecting her boundaries, that same unbelievable respect that had made her want him so badly in the first place, and she had to respect him in return by only placing those boundaries around things that were truly untouchable.

Besides, it was something they really did need to be able to talk about. It was going to come up sooner or later, if and when Peggy ever decided she wanted those hypothetical children. Better to discuss it now and lay the groundwork, so Steve wouldn’t need to fret and wonder and hesitate to bring it up later.

“I guess the other question is why you were so sure it would be a big deal to me,” Steve murmured, rubbing his thumb along her jawline. “It’s not like you’re the only woman in the world who can’t have kids, Natasha. You said back at the very beginning that the cryo might have messed with Peggy’s cycle too much to let her get pregnant, but would you expect me to toss her aside if that turns out to be the case? Hell, for all we know _I_ can’t, maybe the serum messed things up too much.”

“Oh, no,” Natasha assured him, smirking a little despite the pain she still felt. “No, I’ve seen the lab reports, that will _not_ be a problem. Quite the opposite. It’s probably a good thing you’re so shy with women. If you were a different man, you’d have grandkids scattered everywhere the USO tour had stopped.”

He turned bright red and huffed in embarrassment, shaking his head. “You know, we did have condoms back then,” he said, and managed to sound only a little strangled.

“I’m honestly not sure that would have been enough,” Natasha replied. “You’re stubborn through and through, let’s put it that way.”

“Uh, has anybody told _Peggy_ that?” Steve asked, dismayed. “Because she said we didn’t even need that much!”

“I made her go talk to the doctor the first day at the Tower,” Natasha said, turning on her side to face him. “And yes, I made certain they knew to warn her about your... special circumstances. She’s safe enough, there are other, less intrusive alternatives these days. But the moment she decides to try, she’ll be pregnant sooner rather than later. Especially since Bucky...” Her voice caught, just the barest hitch before she forced herself to continue, and she prayed Steve wouldn’t notice. “Bucky’s probably the same.”

He was quiet for a long moment, and again she wondered if he’d guessed. Or maybe he was just thinking about the whole situation, and she was being paranoid. “It feels unreal to even be discussing this,” he admitted. “I really had given up on the idea, and now... there are still other things to consider, though. I don’t want you feeling hurt or left out, for one thing. For another, we don't have any idea what she even thinks of the idea. And for a third, we don’t exactly have the safest of jobs. I never knew my father because of the war, and I sure as hell wouldn’t want my kids to lose _both_ parents.”

“Well, in some ways you’ve got the best setup to deal with that,” Natasha pointed out. She’d forgotten that his father had died in the First World War, but it made sense that the possibility of orphaning a child would be a big worry for him. “Having more than two parents increases the chances that at least one person will be left, even if the worst happens. You just have to make sure you never have everyone on the same mission together.”

“That shouldn’t be too hard,” Steve said thoughtfully. “Once Peggy has her feet on the ground she’ll be busy running things, she probably won’t go on that many field missions. Not that I’m gonna tie her down, but I doubt she’ll have time.”

“Running things? You’re planning to give her Hill’s job?” Natasha asked, surprised.

“Well, yeah.” Steve blinked at her like he was equally surprised she would question it. “She ran SHIELD for years, and was damned good at it. She’s just about comfortable enough with computers now to be able to shadow Hill for a while until they’re both confident she can handle it. Hill can go back to Fury, we get somebody we _know_ we’re the first priority for, and everybody’s happy.”

“Were you intending to run this past me at any point?” Natasha wanted to know. “Last I checked I’m also in charge of this base, even if you have final say.”

“I was gonna bring it up soon,” Steve assured her. “I only started talking to her about it a couple of days ago. I was waiting to see if she would be able to get caught up enough on modern technology to _want_ the job, but I didn’t figure you’d have any objections.”

“Well I don’t, but it’s nice to be asked,” Natasha said, rolling her eyes. They’d gotten off topic - and yet they hadn’t, because really it was all planning for the future. 

And the future he was describing was an appealing one, she had to admit. Bucky was already integrating into the Avengers team as well as could be expected given his issues, and that would only continue to improve with time. If Peggy’s delicate handling of the mess between Natasha and Steve was any indication, she’d do a fabulous job as head of operations. Any kids the three of them did end up having would undoubtedly be the darlings of the base, cherished and doted on and quite possibly spoiled rotten if they weren’t careful. 

Anyone who was crass enough to make a disparaging remark about the unusual relationship of the parents of those kids, or who made it clear that they disapproved... well, Natasha couldn’t bring herself to feel very sorry for them. Stupidity at that level was best weeded out of the gene pool as soon as possible. At the very least they’d find themselves booted off the base post-haste, because Steve didn’t put up with intolerance of any kind and he’d always made that abundantly clear.

As for her place in that picture, Natasha discovered she wasn’t as worried about it as she had been until now. She’d finally accepted that Steve’s feelings for her were real, not a phantom carry-over from Peggy and not a pale imitation either. She was building a friendship with Peggy unlike anything she’d ever had before, and enjoyed their time together. Eventually she thought she’d even come to know and like Bucky for himself, instead of seeing the ghost of Yasha in him every time she met his eyes.

“I’ll think about the adoption thing,” she said, surprising herself as much as Steve. He tightened his arms around her, and she rested her cheek on his shoulder with a sigh. “No promises. Either way, you do what _you_ want with Peggy and Bucky, and I’ll stop trying to second-guess what that will be.”

“We’ll make it work,” Steve agreed, his voice a soft rumble beneath her ear. “You taught me to think outside the box when it comes to happiness, and god knows none of us are afraid of putting serious effort into something that matters to us. Nothing matters more to me than you and Peggy and Bucky.”

“I love you,” she whispered, the third time she’d ever said the words aloud. It felt more right, more _real_ , with each repetition.

How the hell had she ever convinced herself she would be able to walk away from this? What had ever possessed her to try?


End file.
